


Position Vector

by sanctuary_for_all



Series: The Other Half of Me [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-23
Updated: 2014-10-23
Packaged: 2018-02-22 06:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2497208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctuary_for_all/pseuds/sanctuary_for_all
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reaching out for him was the most honest thing she’d done in a long time.  Missing scene for 2X05.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Position Vector

The space between them felt like miles.

Jemma took a step closer, desperately trying to breach it. “How have you been?” She could see at least part of the answer in the way he held himself, calmer and steadier than he’d been when she left. She’d expected that to happen, known he needed the chance to rebuild himself without someone constantly trying to push him for conversations he wasn’t ready for. Her need would have only gotten in the way of his healing.

But what she hadn’t expected – been afraid of, yes, but not expected – was how closed off he was. He didn’t respond to her question, instead folding his arms as if shutting and locking a door, and Jemma’s heart lurched with a terror no less real than what she’d felt running for her life.  “Fitz?”

He stepped back, away from her, and held a hand out in the general direction of the lab behind him. “So, this is the new lab.” He looked everywhere but at her eyes. “Make yourself at home.” He hesitated, as if he might say something else, then turned and headed for a workspace far away from her.

Jemma followed him, her feet needing no command from her brain. She reached out to touch his arm, still not sure what she would say when she got his attention, but she never got there. He flinched away, her fingers freezing on empty air, and all she could do was stare in horror as she felt the ice close up around her throat.

No. Oh please, no.

Fitz let out a breath, shoulders slumping as he finally glanced over at her. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, every word heavy with finality. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Jemma lifted her eyes to his face, not sure what he was saying. She’d been pretending for months now, both while she was undercover and before when she’d tried hard to be nothing more than the supportive lab partner she’d once been. She’d wanted to shake him, yell at him, ask him a thousand questions and just hold him while she cried, but none of that had been what he’d needed. So she’d pushed it all down, for as long as she could, then left when she couldn’t anymore.

Now, though, here…. The “everything’s cheery” smile had been pretense, true. But reaching out for him was the most honest thing she’d done in a long time.

“When did you think I was pretending?” she whispered, eyes never leaving him.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I know why you left,” he said finally, still not looking at her.

Jemma blinked, even more confused. “You needed space to heal, and I was....” She’d kept quiet too long. She couldn’t make the words come out properly.  “I was too….”

Fitz’s jaw tightened. “What I _needed_ was my... my.... You.” The words were low and furious, enough to make her take a step back. “What I needed was _you_. And you weren’t _here_.”

She swallowed, eyes suddenly filling against her will. A small sound made her look around, belatedly realizing that there were other people in the room. The lab wasn’t just theirs, anymore. “Is there someplace more private we can go?” There were tears in her voice as well. “So we can talk.”

He looked away again, forcing himself to breathe slowly. “You don’t need to explain.” The words were hard. “You already made it clear you don’t... feel the same way about me.”

Her eyes widened, the anger she’d fought for so long bubbling up. “You think _that’s_ what this is about?” The question came out far more loudly than she’d intended, but that was far less important than Fitz jerking his head up to look at her in shock.

They stared at each other a moment in absolute silence, then he straightened and gestured her toward a door at the back of the lab. She followed him, heart pounding loud enough that it was probably wreaking absolute havoc with her blood pressure.

She stepped past him into the smaller room, and he stayed behind to close the door behind them both. “What is it about, then?” he said finally, his expression caught somewhere between bravery and fear.

Jemma understood the feeling all too well. “I was … I was the last thing you needed, Fitz.” Her chest felt tight, like she was having trouble breathing. “I was so _mad_ at you, and afraid, and heartbroken, and I kept wanting to ask you questions that you shouldn’t have had to deal with at your stage of recovery.” Her hands lifted helplessly. “The Jemma you needed … I couldn’t _be_ her, no matter how hard I tried. I’m so sorry.”

He watched her as if he was trying to work a problem through in his mind. “What … did you want to ask me?”

She pressed her lips together, then took a deep breath. “Do you forgive me for saving you?” she whispered.

His eyes widened, and it took him a moment to respond. “I … was never angry with you.” He hesitated. “Not about that.”

But about other things, then. Well, it was only fair. “I was so _mad_ at you.” She should look away, give herself some protection, but she’d missed the sight of him as much as everything else. If this was her last chance, she couldn’t give up a second of it. “I’ve never really thought of myself as a romantic, but I always thought when I realized I wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone I’d be given at least a little time to process it. It was selfish, and it was horrible, but I was so angry with you for not telling me before. For making me realize how much I loved you in the worst possible moment in the world, when neither of us could _do_ anything about it and I didn’t even know when you’d wake up. And then you did, and I couldn’t even talk about it because you needed to focus on your recovery, and I didn’t even know if you _remembered_ —”

The words spilled out of her, too fast to stop, but all of Jemma’s attention was on the way Fitz’s face changed as he listened. Doubt melted into confusion, then shock, only to sprout wings and turn into a sudden, brilliant hope that she could feel echoing in her own chest. He crossed the distance between them in a few steps, his hand lifting to her face, and for a brief, breathless moment their old, silent understanding rose back up between them perfectly.

She wasn’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t really matter. The kiss was slow, almost tentative, but sweet enough to ache in the best possible way. She laid her hands against his chest, his heart beating hard underneath her palm, and knew in a clear, wonderful moment that this was the way the future tasted.

When they broke apart, Fitz stared at her with absolute wonder in his eyes. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Jemma lifted her hand to touch his face, smiling even though her cheeks were wet. “I missed you, too.”

When he pulled her into his arms, she knew she was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> Come check out my weekly posts and original short fiction on my [blog](http://jennifferwardell.blogspot.com) or say hi to me on [Tumblr](http://sanctuaryforalluniverses.tumblr.com)!


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